


Forget Me Not

by TheEmcee



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, British Empire, Complete, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, Long Shot, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Modern Era, Psychological Drama, Russian Empire, Tragic Romance, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 12:01:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1346728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEmcee/pseuds/TheEmcee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Britain is one of the world’s strongest empires and has been ever since he won America. But another empire, one that is far stronger and more vast than his own, somehow manages to brainwash America. Now, his beloved colony no longer remembers him and he is being fed lies about Britain left and right. Is there anything Britain can do to regain his colony back? Or has he lost America forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget Me Not

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters. If I did, Sweden wouldn’t be the only homosexual in the series (not that he’s the only one anyway, ha ha!).
> 
> A/N: This is an AU but set in modern times. The countries are still, well, countries and stuff. America is a country kind of sort of but one under the British Empire’s rule. Russia hates Britain’s guts and a tiny bit of black magic will be involved, because that’s how former pirates solve problems. There won’t be any rape or anything like that. So…yeah. Let me know what you think, okay? R&R. Enjoy!

~…~  
Forget Me Not  
~…~

Things were going pretty well for Arthur.

 

He was in charge of one of the biggest empires on the face of the Earth, Frog Face France hadn’t tried to grope him or hit on him in a week (must suck to have half an eye brow shaven, but that’s what the wanker got for trying to feel him up in public), and Alfred hadn’t been giving him any problems as of late. Actually, he was being quite agreeable and cooperative, which Arthur was thankful for. It was tiresome getting into arguments with his favorite colony and part of him wondered why he continued keeping the American with him at all times.

 

But then, he remembered that Alfred had always been there to back him up in every battle and war ever since Arthur had found him in the seventeenth century. And he came in handy too; the American had physical strength, speed, and endurance that far exceeded Arthur’s own. Aside from that, they did tend to get along well, usually. Before, they had hardly had any sort of arguments or anything of the sort. Now though, it seemed as though all they did was argue. Except for the past few weeks. Although Alfred seemed subdued and a little under the weather – there was a bug going around and whatnot – things seemed to be improving.

 

Yes, things were indeed going pretty well for Arthur.

 

~…~

 

“Just get out of my face, Arthur!” Alfred cried as he stormed out of Arthur’s house. What he needed right now was to get as far from the Brit as he could and a walk sounded like just the thing. If Arthur had any sense to him at all, he wouldn’t chase after him.

 

Storming out of the back yard and into the woods that surrounded the house, Alfred walked without direction and with the sole purpose of having some well needed alone time. Things had been getting bad between him and Arthur in the past century, very bad. While he cared about Arthur a lot (the guy had found him and had raised him ever since he was very young), he was tired of being under the man’s rule. He wanted to be his own, separate entity and not part of the British Empire. It had been a long, long time, Alfred was over four hundred years old now, and he was sick and tired of being bossed around and treated like he was just a piece of property. Alfred had his own people and he was more than capable of being on his own. Besides, if Arthur depended more on Alfred’s strength than his own, maybe it was time for them to part ways so that the Brit could become self-reliant once again.

 

But suggesting that to Arthur was a huge mistake. They had fought about it in the past before and Alfred had sort of resigned himself to being under Arthur’s reign, but not this badly. After a little while of keeping quiet and keeping his head down, Alfred had become sick and tired of it and he wanted to be free, to make his own choices and do what he wanted to, to be his own country, independent. He knew that he could do it and that he’d have no problem being on his own; that much was obvious. However, Arthur flat out refused to even entertain the thought. And that resulted in the yelling match that had Alfred so pissed off he stormed out of the house to get away.

 

Arthur didn’t like having the countries and colonies under his reign live apart from him; it was easier to control his empire that way and make sure that no one tried to take what was his. The thought of merely going to his room made his skin crawl and caused him to feel claustrophobic. If he stayed inside, he’d probably beat the shit out of Arthur anyway and as angry as he was, he didn’t want to hurt the man who had been like a father to him for so very long. So, a walk it was.

 

As he continued walking through the woods, still fuming from his fight with Arthur, Alfred began to think, really think. It would be easy to rebel; he had his own military, military that Arthur often relied upon. His numbers were greater than Arthur’s were, he had more land and resources, and he himself was physically stronger than the Brit. Rebelling would be pretty damn easy for him, although winning wouldn’t be nearly so. However, he didn’t want there to be any bad blood between him and Arthur.

 

Despite how he felt now and all of the bad feelings he felt in the past, Alfred genuinely loved Arthur and he hated hurting him. He just wanted Arthur to realize that he couldn’t contain someone like Alfred, someone who needed to stretch their legs, be free, and figure things out on their own. And it wouldn’t be like they wouldn’t be friends anymore because they would be. Just because he wanted to be his own country, his own person, didn’t mean that he didn’t want anything to do with Arthur anymore. But Arthur refused to listen, to understand; he refused to even try.

 

Sighing heavily, Alfred slowed down to a stop and leaned against one of the trees. Staring up at the starry night sky, he sighed again. He was just so tired of feeling this way and of having bad feelings towards Arthur. All he wanted was a chance to show the world that he could make something of himself and not been seen as Arthur’s little putain, as Francis had called him at the meeting last week.

 

God, he hated going to those meetings, meetings full of independent countries, which were few and far between, and the stronger empires. Britain, Russia, Spain, France, Germany, China…they were all powerful empires and have a few countries and territories under their belts. They always had the most to say while countries and colonies like Alfred weren’t allowed to address the room. If they had something to say, they told the leader of the empire, who, in Alfred’s case, was Arthur, and if they found it important, they would either share with the class or keep it to themselves, whichever was most advantageous.

 

Alfred had stopped helping Arthur out with things like that many years ago. He never did tell Arthur that Ludwig had managed to gain a foothold in Northern Italy or that Antonio was having a difficult time with Mexico and keeping Southern Italy out of Turkey’s grasp, a country that no one wanted to mess with. Nor did he tell Arthur that Francis was planning on attacking one of his colonies. Not Alfred, of course, but Matt, his brother and who had been under Francis’ rule since before either of them could remember, had told him that Francis had been looking towards a few islands near Africa and even some countries is Africa itself, countries that Arthur ruled over. And Alfred wasn’t even going to think about Ivan.

 

The guy was creepy as all hell. Okay, sure, whenever he had spoken to Alfred he had been really nice and had always smiled at him. And yeah, Ivan was pretty good looking with pale blonde hair, violet eyes, a nice smile, pale skin, and a muscular build. Hell, he was more muscular than Ludwig and that was saying something. All in all, Ivan was a nice guy, but something about him gave Alfred the creeps. Of course, it could just be all in his head; Arthur didn’t like Ivan and a lot of his tastes happened to, unfortunately in most cases, rub off on the American.

 

So wrapped up in his thoughts was he that he didn’t even hear the footsteps approaching him. He hadn’t even realized how quiet everything around him had gotten until he felt someone standing right beside him. Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, Alfred looked up and jumped when he saw Ivan towering over him. When the hell had he gotten there? Why was he there anyway? Arthur didn’t like him and wouldn’t have invited Ivan over for negotiations of any sort, especially at this time of night. So what was the Russian doing here?

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Fredka. I did not mean to frighten you,” Ivan said, smiling the same small smile he always wore.

 

Alfred’s heart was pounding in his chest and he took a few steps back, away from Ivan, to put some space in between them. Not being as close to the other made Alfred feel a little bit better, but he was still shaken.

 

“You’re awfully quiet, big guy. How do you do that?” he asked as he began to calm down.

 

“You just have to be aware of your surroundings and mind your steps,” Ivan replied simply.

 

“Oh. Uh, what are you even doing here, anyway?” Alfred said. Then he added, “I didn’t know Arthur invited you over tonight. He didn’t tell me…” He just wanted to see what Ivan would say because, honestly, there was no reason he could think of as to why the Russian was there period.

 

“You silly. Arthur did not invite me over. I have no desire to see that weirdo,” Ivan told him, his smile widening. “I actually came to see you.” At that, Alfred took another step back. Unfortunately, Ivan started to slowly cross the gap between them.

 

“Why did you come here to see me? And how did you know I was out here anyway?” Alfred demanded, sounding way more confident and self-assured than he felt.

 

"That is simple question. I followed you when you ran from the house," Ivan said, his smiling widening.

 

"You were watching me?" Alfred asked, feeling more than a little creeped out by the other's words.

 

"Da. I enjoy watching you. You are a funny and interesting guy," Ivan replied.

 

"That's...actually....kinda creepy," Alfred told him, moving away from the Russian slowly. Unfortunately, Ivan followed after him. It looked as though he'd just have to bolt without be subtle about it.

 

"That is true, but I do not think it would have been a good idea to let Arthur see me. He would have kept you from me and that would not have been good, da," Ivan said, still smiling, his violet eyes entirely focused on Alfred.

 

"Uh...why would that not have been a good thing?" Alfred asked. He had a feeling about what Ivan was going to say, but he'd much rather not think about it at all. Ever.

 

"Because I want you to be mine," Ivan stated simply, still smiling.

 

"Sorry, pal, but that's not going to happen," Alfred said, shaking his head. "Not in a million years."

 

"Oh, but I think it will. You see, I have been watching how you are with Arthur and you are not happy anymore. Isn't that right, da?" Ivan asked. "I can make you happy."

 

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather figure it out on my own," Alfred said. And with that, he turned and walked away from the bigger nation, wanting to get away from him as fast as he could, but without making it obvious that he was running away from him.

 

Setting a fast walking pace, Alfred started off towards...well, in all honesty, he wasn't sure which way led back to the house. He had been so caught up in his conversation with Ivan that when he started to step away from him, Alfred had forgotten which way would lead him back home. From behind him, he heard footsteps following him, he heard twigs and leaves snap and crumble underneath Ivan's heavy boots. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Ivan was, indeed, following him, smiling all the way, almost as though he were a child and capturing Alfred was a mere game.

 

Panic and fear rose up within him and Alfred began running as fast as he could away from the Russian. He dodged trees, fallen branches, bushes, and rocks, leaping when he needed to and reluctantly slowing down at some spots. All the while, Ivan kept a steady pace, barely even blinking as he maneuvered through the woods surrounding them effortless, as though he had already mapped out the entire terrain. Something inside of Alfred told him that the older nation had, that he had been planning this for a while now.

 

Alfred was too busy glancing over his shoulder to locate Ivan that he didn't see the large rock protruding from the ground until it was too late. His boot snagged the rock and he fell. The last thing he remembered before he blacked out was his heading hitting something hard and a sharp, searing pain.

 

~...~  
"NO!" Arthur cried out. "This can't be happening! All of my time and effort into making my serum and now it's gone!"

 

This...this just couldn't be happening! It couldn't be, damn it! Why? Why was he always deprived of everything? Why couldn't things just go right and stay right for a change? All of his life, Arthur had been harassed and rejected like he was the scum of the earth. He had worked hard and diligently to become the vast empire he was today. He had bloodied his hands in order to be renowned as a feared a ruthless pirate. Was he paying for all of that now? Was this a way of making his regrets shown publically? Arthur didn't deny that he had been a brute back in the day, but that was why he tried to always do what was best for his colonies and people, for his empire period, now.

 

His efforts were for naught.

 

So distraught was he that Arthur didn't even realize that tears were flowing down his face. Dejected and grief stricken, Arthur sat back on his heels and started at the stained carpet of the hallway. Perhaps this was fate telling him to let Alfred go. Perhaps he was never meant to have his precious colony back. Maybe this was how he repented for being such a controlling bastard. He should have let Alfred go. He should have let him free and given him the chance to be his own country and to grow strong and resilient and resourceful all by himself.

 

What a fool he had been. And it's a fool's fate counting the mistakes he's made.

 

"Hey...are you okay?" asked a voice. So wrapped up in his own thoughts was he that Arthur didn't even realize that Alfred was standing right there, looking uncertain and even nervous. Arthur blinked at him, confused, not fully comprehending Alfred's words.

 

"Huh?" was all he could muster.

 

"I asked if you were okay. I didn't see you there. Sorry," Alfred said. "And...you're crying..." The younger nation's expression was one of confusion and...and something else, something Arthur couldn't name. But it seemed as though a war was going on inside of Alfred. Wiping his face on the sleeve of his green jacket, Arthur stood up.

 

"I...I'm fine. Thank you for asking, though," Arthur said. He started to walk away but was stopped when Alfred called out to him.

 

"Britain!"

 

Arthur stopped. Breathing deeply to gain courage and strength, Arthur turned around and faced his now former colony.

 

"Yes? What is it?" he asked. Alfred chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, an expression Arthur was very familiar with. He only ever did it when he was thinking and unsure.

 

"I...I just wanted to know...why did you ambush me and chase me through the woods by my house four months ago?" Alfred asked him.

 

Arthur's brow furrowed in confusion. Ambush him? Chase him through the woods? He had done no such thing! Never! Not to anyone, and especially not to Alfred. Anger shot through his body, but Arthur force himself to calm down. Right now, what Alfred needed to hear was the truth, not some lie fed to him by Ivan, the filthy Russian! His green eyes met Alfred's blue ones as he answered his question.

 

"I didn't ambush you or anything of the sort, Alfred," Arthur told him, his voice sincere but firm. "Nor did I chase you around some forest."

 

"But...Ivan told me that you did! He said that you caused my accident and made me forget!" Alfred said, looking just as frustrated and anger and upset and confused as Arthur felt.

 

"I don't know for certain how your accident was caused or by whom. All that I do know is that the night you went missing from my house, we had had a fight and you stormed off, leaving the house and going for a walk in the woods," Arthur said. "That was the last time I saw you."

 

"Your house? Why was I at your house?" Alfred asked, clearly trying to process everything he had been told. Arthur had to suppress a sigh, a feat that was incredibly difficult for him right then and there.

 

"Because you were my favorite colony and I always wanted to have you with me," Arthur replied. "I...cared a great deal for you and I still do. But I was blinded by my own ambition and lust for power to see that I was hurting you. For that, I am truly sorry."

 

Both of them remained silent for what seemed like an eternity. Arthur was hoping that Alfred would hear the truth of his words and would come to realize that he had been told lies by Ivan to keep him away from Arthur. Alfred was thinking over all that he had been told, with Arthur's words battling against Ivan's, like a mental war going on inside of his head. It was frustrating and confusing and Alfred just didn't know what to believe.

 

"If you need proof, Alfred, then you may come to my house after the meeting is over," Arthur offered, glad that the world meeting was held in London this month and also kicking himself for not thinking of this sooner. "I have paperwork proving that you were once my colony."

 

"Your house?" Alfred asked and seemed alarmed and fearful. Fearful, of course, of Arthur. That thought made the Brit's heart clench in pain.

 

"If you would like to, yes. The choice is yours. You're your own nation now and I cannot force you to do anything you don't wish to do," Arthur said simply. He watched as Alfred thought about his offer. Then, blue eyes met green once again.

 

"Okay. I'll be there," Alfred said.

 

~...~

 

Alfred was tense and nervous throughout the entire world meeting. There was the possibility that he was taking a gigantic risk at going over to Britain's house after the meeting. He could always be captured or something like that, but something inside of him told him that Britain wasn't going to do that.

 

Beside him, Ivan was stealing glances at him, obviously worried at Alfred's silence and tension. His left hand reached down and grasped his right one underneath the table, a silent display of support, strength, and love. He wanted to lean against Ivan, draw strength from him, and tell him everything that Britain had told him. However, another part of him, a stronger part of him, was telling him not to say a word to Ivan, his partner, his lover. Why he felt that way he didn't know; all Alfred knew was that he felt it.

 

Once the meeting was over, Alfred waited until he was one of the last ones to leave. Britain had already left; where he was, Alfred didn't know. But Ivan was beside him, still concerned about his unusual behavior.

 

"What is wrong, sunflower?" Ivan asked him, his violet eyes showing his concern and a frown marring his sweet face. Alfred looked up at him, trying to reassure him even though he himself was unsure.

 

"There's somewhere I need to be. I shouldn't be long, though," Alfred told him.

 

"Where is it you need to go? Would you like me to accompany you?" Ivan said, his expression changing back into the easy smile that he often wore, although his tone was more urgent than normal, telling Alfred that he really wanted to know where he was going.

 

"Nah, there's no need," Alfred said, trying to be nonchalant, like it was no big deal. Giving Ivan a smile, he gazed into those familiar violet eyes. "I don't wanna inconvenience you and I really won't take long. I'll be back at the hotel before you know it."

 

"Well...okay! Just be careful and call me if you need to, da?" Ivan said. Pulling Alfred into a hug, he pressed a kiss to his temple before he let him go.

 

"Thanks! I will," Alfred told him, still smiling. "See ya soon, Vanya!" Sending Ivan a wink, Alfred started down the hallway.

 

He stepped into a nearby bathroom and went inside a stall. Being as quiet as he could be, Alfred stepped up onto the toilet and crouched down, making sure that no one could see any part of him. And then, he waited and listened, listened to see if Ivan was following him or not. After about a minute or two, he heard boot steps enter the bathroom. They stopped at the first stall and Alfred was thankful he was in the middle one. Keeping his breathing calm and light, not audible at all, he listened.

 

Those boots came into view and he recognized them as Ivan's. So, Ivan had followed him after all. Alfred remained silent as Ivan checked to see he was there. He didn't know how much time had passed before Ivan released a sigh.

 

"Guess he's not here, da," Ivan said. Then he turned and walked out of Alfred's eyesight and, finally, out of the bathroom entirely.

 

Alfred waited for about ten minutes. Just as he was about to step down off of the toilet, he heard more footsteps. Someone entered the bathroom. Cursing to himself silently, Alfred remained crouched on the toilet, listening. He heard whoever had entered the bathroom sigh.

 

"It's me, Alfred," came Britain's voice. Feeling relieved, Alfred stepped down and stepped out of his stall. Sure enough, there stood Britain, looking more understanding than Alfred thought he ought to. Was it possible that Britain had had to pull the same tactic he had just pulled on someone else?

 

"Hey. Thanks for coming to get me," Alfred said, feeling foolish and stupid for some odd reason. Well, he supposed it wasn't entirely uncalled for; he had just hidden from Ivan, his boyfriend, after all.

 

"No problem. Shall we go?" Britain asked him.

 

"Yeah. Let's go," Alfred said.

 

The ride to Britain's house wasn't that long; about twenty minutes tops. His house, Alfred found, was located outside of the city in a wooded area. As they drove by, Alfred got the sense that he had been there before, although he was pretty sure that that wasn't possible. But if that was the case, then why did he feel as though he had been on this road before? Why did his surroundings seem to familiar to him?

 

When they finally pulled into Britain's driveway and up to his house, that feeling of familiarity intensified. For some reason, it felt as though Alfred was finally at home. Tears began to well up in his eyes as he stepped out of Arthur's car. Feeling as though he was on autopilot, Alfred walked towards the house, feeling overwhelmed by all that he was feeling and all of the memories swirling about in his head, memories that didn't made sense, memories of a blonde haired, green eyed man holding him as a baby, singing to him, playing with him...

 

"Are you alright, Alfred?" Britain asked him. Alfred blinked a couple of times and shook his head, trying to clear it.

 

"I'm fine, Britain," he said.

 

"Arthur," Britain said softly. "You may call me Arthur, if you'd like."

 

"Arthur," Alfred said softly and it felt so right on his tongue.

 

Arthur pulled out a key from his pocket, unlocked the front doors, and opened them. He stood aside and gestured for Alfred to go on inside ahead of him. Feeling strange and disoriented and confused, yet also somehow oddly detached, Alfred stepped inside of the house.

 

He stood in the foyer. In the room beyon was a sitting room. To the left of him was the living room and to the right, a study that was only used when Arthur's boss came over. Alfred knew that although he didn't know how he knew it. It was like a memory...a far-off memory from a long forgotten dream. The dining room was beside the living room and beyond that was the kitchen. A stair well rose from the right by the study and made a semi-circle to the second floor, where Arthur's office was along with his bedroom and guest rooms. Again, Alfred didn't know how he knew this; he just...did.

 

Flashes of images came to his mind as he stepped further into the foyer. Alfred could see in his mind's eye memories of when he was a child, a still small country in the making. The person who had taken care of him during those times was always hard for him to see and it had been like that since after his accident. At first, Alfred assumed that it was Ivan, since that was what Ivan told him. But now, that person was finally, at long last, coming into focus.

 

Alfred saw himself being held and sung to while he napped in the warm arms of his caretaker, who rocked him gently. Then he saw himself playing with hand carved toy soldiers in front of the fireplace while his caretaker read a book and would occasionally watch him play, a smile on his face. He saw himself seated at a table, eating and asking questions about the food. More memories came and went and instead of Alfred seeing violet eyes, he saw green. But he didn't say anything; he just kept quiet as he gazed around the house. And then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking down, he saw Arthur gazing at him with a worried expression on his face.

 

"Alfred? Is something the matter?" Arthur asked him, his green eyes full of concern. Green eyes...

 

"No...no, I'm fine," Alfred said quickly.

 

"If you say so..." Arthur said, taking his hand away from Alfred's shoulder. The younger nation found himself strangely missing the contact.

 

"Come. The papers are in the study over here," Arthur said as he walked towards the study on the right. They must have been important documents; Arthur didn't keep anything in that room that wasn't of significance.

 

Alfred followed Arthur into the study, closing the door behind them. He followed him as he walked over to a filing cabinet and opened the top drawer. Arthur took out a manilla file and held it out for Alfred to take.

 

"Here. These are the papers I told you about," Arthur said. "Each year, every nation must account for their colonies and territories. Think of it kind of like filing for taxes or what have you. All of a nation's colonies, territories, ports, etcetera, must be documented so that all of the other countries know what belongs to who so that a war isn't started over land or resources or anything else of that nature," he continued to explain.

 

Alfred opened the file and began to read the paperwork. At first, it was just a boring statement on how each country had agreed to publish the records, but the next page started to list the colonies and territories under British Empire's domain. Underneath each colony or territory's name was a list of population, the size of said colony or territory, and other such things. After flipping through a few pages, some more detailed and lengthy than others, Alfred finally came upon his own: the United States of America.

 

Reading through the page, there was absolutely no denying it now. Arthur had been right: Alfred had been his colony, one of his biggest in fact. He had been telling the truth at the meeting before last. And Ivan...Ivan had lied to him. Pushing that thought aside - he'd deal with it later - Alfred turned to Arthur, who was watching him sadly.

 

"I...I really was your colony," he said, his voice soft and slightly hoarse.

 

"Yes, you were," Arthur said. "But not anymore. It was decreed long ago that should an empire not account for one of its territories or colonies after a month, then it would be up for forfeit or allowed to become its own nation."

 

"So...that's how you lost me," Alfred muttered.

 

"Yes, well, it would have been difficult to account for you when Ivan had you," Arthur said. "Perhaps it was just...time to let you go."

 

Glancing around the room, Alfred looked at the numerous books on the shelves and the knick knacks strewn about, some of them from Arthur's days as a pirate, others from a time long before that, and some that were still considered 'new' even though they'd been sitting on the shelves since the 1950's. They reminded him of Arthur, even though Alfred still felt as though they were strangers. Hell, he felt like a stranger in his own skin right now. Breathing in, Alfred inhaled a scent that was unique only to Arthur.

 

Suddenly, everything came rushing back to him at once. Crying out in pain, Alfred dropped the file and fell of his knees, bending over, holding his head in his hands. The caretaker from his memories finally came into focus, loud and clear. It was Arthur. It had always been Arthur. In every memory, in every joyous occasion and every fight, it had always been Arthur.

 

Not Ivan, never Ivan. In fact, Alfred remembered thinking about how creepy the Russian was. He had never actually talked to him, but Arthur's opinion of him didn't help give him good standing in Alfred's mind.

 

And he remembered that night, too. The night of his accident. It hadn't been Arthur who had snuck up on him and then caused him to run off before giving chase. It had been Ivan. Ivan had snuck up on him in the middle of the night after Alfred had had a particularly bad fight with Arthur about becoming his own nation. Ivan had been the one who chased after Alfred. Ivan had been the reason behind Alfred falling and hitting his head and causing him to forget everything.

 

Not Arthur.

 

"Alfred?! ALFRED!" Arthur was in front of him, his hands on his shoulders and shaking him as he screamed.

 

Alfred's head was exploding with pain as every single memory came back to him. He felt as though his head would literally explode any second now. Every pulse, every throb of pain was too much. It hurt too much...

 

Vaguely, he heard the door open and someone say something. Then, all he could hear was Arthur.

 

"Get out! Get the bloody hell out this second!" Arthur shouted. Then the door closed.

 

Everything felt sensitive and yet Alfred also felt weirdly detached from his own body. It was just too much. Alfred allowed darkness to swallow him up and he fell into Arthur's arms unconscious.

 

~...~

 

When Alfred woke up again, he felt...whole. Complete, for the first time in a long time. Everything was clear and he remembered everything. 

 

Everything.

 

Groaning, feeling stiff and weirdly tired, Alfred sat up. He had been lying on a bed in...his old room. He was back in his old room at Arthur's. And that meant...

 

"Alfred! You're awake," Arthur said as he came into the room, a cup of tea in his hand.

 

"Hey, Artie," Alfred said. Arthur frowned at him.

 

"I've told you numerous times not to call me that," Arthur said as he placed his tea down on the bedside table. "I despise that nickname and-"

 

His green eyes widened and Alfred smiled, even though he had a killer headache that made his head pound with every single beat of his heart.

 

"You...remember..." Arthur said softly, almost as though he was afraid to jinx it by speaking the words aloud.

 

"Yeah, I remember. I remember everything," Alfred confirmed, still smiling. Arthur sat down and sighed heavily, suddenly looking incredibly old and tired.

 

"Alfred...I...I must apologize," Arthur told him, his voice full of too many emotions that Alfred just couldn't name right now. "Your accident is...all my fault. Had I not been such a selfish fool you would not have left the house..." Shaking his head, he cradled it in his hands as he continued, his voice slightly muffled but still loud throughout the otherwise silent room. "I should have let you be free when you first asked me to."

 

"Arthur...it's...not your fault, okay?" Alfred said, moving so that he sat on the bed and in front of Arthur. He brought his hands up and gently grasped Arthur's shoulders. They shook beneath his grasp; actually, the entire Brit's body was shaking and Alfred knew that he was crying. "Arthur, look at me." He must have sounded deadly serious, because Arthur did as he was told. His green, puffy, red eyes met Alfred's blue ones.

 

"What happened to me wasn't your fault. It was partially mine and partially Ivan's. I should have kept calm instead of running off. I mean, I could take the guy in a fight and I just ran like a coward," Alfred told Arthur.

 

"Ivan is strong. He'd give you a run for your money," Arthur replied.

 

"Yeah, but I'd give him a run for his, too. I shouldn't have stormed off anyway," Alfred said.

 

"Yes, well, I wasn't being reasonable then. You did the right thing, walking off, instead of staying," Arthur said.

 

"Well, I'm done with running. Right now, I want to patch things up. I...I want to be with you again," Alfred admitted, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. Arthur gazed at him wide-eyed.

 

"You...you mean you want to be my colony again?" Arthur asked, his voice hopeful and soft.

 

"No. I'm the United States of America. I'm my own country at last and I plan on staying that way," Alfred said. He watched as Arthur's frame slumped and as hope left his green eyes. A sharp pain stabbed his heart when he saw that. "But I...I still want to be with you. Together. As countries...as friends..." Perhaps as something more...in time. But that thought went unspoken, although the way Arthur looked at him, Alfred knew that the older nation knew what had been left unsaid.

 

"I would like that very much," Arthur said. Alfred smiled and opened his mouth to say something when suddenly, he was being crushed to Arthur in a breathtaking hug. He hugged Arthur back, reveling in the past, in familiarity, and in the promise of a bright and new future.

 

"I'm so very...very happy that you're back, Alfred," Arthur said. "I've missed you so."

 

"I missed you too, Arthur," Alfred replied. And he meant it.

 

~...~

 

"So...this is how it ends," Ivan said as he stared at Alfred. His violet eyes were trained on the younger nation; he refused to even glance at Arthur. With his heart beating wildly in his chest, it was all Ivan could do to not get up and choke the very life from the Brit for taking away what was his.

 

"Yes. I'm sorry that things have to be this way," Alfred said, clearing choosing his words wisely. He was trying to prevent a war from breaking out and it was like walking on egg shells. Ivan was just so...unpredictable.

 

"If you are sure, then I will leave you be, Fredka," Ivan vowed. And he would. If this was what Alfred wanted, then that was fine. But he knew that it would not last. Arthur was not the kind of person to let go of a grudge. Somewhere, deep down inside of him, Arthur still saw Alfred as his colony. That would spark a fight and, eventually, Alfred would return to him. All would come to him in time to become one with Russia, after all.

 

"I wouldn't mind being friends, big guy," Alfred said as he stood up from his chair. Ivan stood up as well and shook his hand, his heart screaming in pain at knowing that his love would be going home with another man.

 

"Neither would I, Fredka. We know each other too well to be anything else," Ivan said and finally, for a brief moment, his eyes met Arthur's. No matter what happened, Ivan would always, always, be Alfred's first and no one could replace that. He would always hold a special place in the America's heart; such was a weakness of many Americans.

 

"Right. Well, hit me up some time, okay? Don't be a stranger," Alfred said. He let go of Ivan's hand. "I'll see ya at the world meeting next week, right?"

 

"Da. I would not miss it for anything," Ivan said, smiling as Alfred and Arthur left his office. He stared at the door for a long time before he spoke to his subdorinate.

 

"There is a small British fleet near India, da?" Ivan asked. Toris nodded nervously.

 

"Y-yes, sir," he said. Ivan smiled cruelly as he stared at the closed door.

 

"Which of our subs in nearest that point?"

 

"Hold on...just a second..." Toris said as he looked through some papers. "Um...Severodvinsk, sir."

 

"Wonderful!" Ivan said as he left his office. He would have to talk to his boss about possibly causing the British Empire to lose a few of its prized ships.

 

After all, this was not the ending, but merely a beginning.


End file.
